ng the 'eat. 'E
seems worried. 'E's been trying to telephone."

The Sapper, with a suppressed chuckle, went down some steps into a
spacious dug-out. The darkness made him temporarily blind, so he saluted
and stood still just inside the doorway.

"Damn you, don't blow at me! What's that fool blowin' down the thing
for? I _have_ pressed a button--confound you!--and rung the bell twice.
No--I didn't ring off; somebody blew at me, and the machine fell on the
floor."

"The General is trying to get through to his chateau." A voice full of
unholy joy whispered in the Sapper's ear, and that worthy, whose eyes had
got accustomed to the gloom, recognised the Adjutant.

"I gathered that something of the sort was occurring," he whispered back.

But the General was at it again. "Who are you--the R.T.O.? Well, ring
off. Exchange. Exchange. It is the Divisional General speaking. I
want my head-quarters. I say, I want my--oh, don't twitter, and the
bally thing's singin' now! First it blows and then it sings. Good God!
what's that?"

A deafening explosion shook the dug-out, and a shower of earth and stones
rained down in the trench outside.

"They're very active this morning, sir," said the Sapper, stepping
forward. "Lot of rum jars and things coming over."

"Are you the Sapper officer? Good morning. I wish you'd get this
accursed instrument to work."

"There may be a line broken," he remarked tactfully.

"Well--I shall have to go back; I can't hear a word. The thing does
nothin' but squeak. Now it's purring like a cat. I hate cats. Most
annoyin'. I wanted to come round the front line this morning."

"In very good condition, sir; I've just been all round it. Mighty hot up
there, General--and swarms of flies."

"And they're puttin' over some stuff, you say?"

"Yes, sir--quite a lot."

"Hum! Well, of course, I fully intended to come round--but, dash it all,
I must get back. Can't hear a word the fellow says. Does nothing but
play tunes." The Pumpkin rose and stalked to the door. "Well, I'll come
round another morning, my boy. I wonder, by Jove! if that last one was
meant for this head-quarters? Devilish near, you know." He walked up
the stairs, followed by his staff officer. "Good mornin'--mind you see
about that telephone. Cursed thing blows."

"Dear old Pumpkin," murmured the Adjutant as his steps died away. "He's
a topper. His figure's against him, but he's got the heart of a lion."